Dressing up, dressing down: does it affect how many come to concerts?

Someone recently asked me on Twitter whether it would be alright for her to come to one of my concerts "scruffy". Now I would never turn anyone away, but a thought that was at the back of my mind moved to the front: does casual dressing increase the attraction of classical concerts? Does it increase the numbers who attend?

Alexander McQueen's heart peep toe pumps

There's no question that for much of the 20th century classical concerts were a leisure activity for the well-heeled. It wasn't so much the ticket prices (opera aside, classical concerts have usually been cheaper than rock concerts or frontline sports events): it was more a sense of concert halls being a club where rules had to be kept, with a fierce look of disdain if you clapped in the wrong place, sat in the wrong place, shifted in your seat in the wrong place … a thousand snobs judging you with a thousand upturned noses. Ghastly!
But on the other hand a concert shouldn't be a 'comfortable' affair in the sense that it differs little from lounging on a sofa with a beer and a tube of sour cream 'n' onion Pringles. The music we play is not untouchable but it is intangible. It invites us to interact with it with affectionate familiarity, yet with the reverence of something special: a priceless (if sturdy) tapestry not a damp tea towel.

Does dress have anything to do with this? Well, yes and no. There is no need for performers (or audience members too just over a hundred years ago) to be in Edwardian tailcoats. But a concert is theatre. There is a 'moment' when the lights lower, the stage is empty, then it is filled with the presence of the one about to perform. This is drama, a drama which reaches back to the human prehistory of storytelling, of magic, of mystery. Torn jeans can work, but I think they should be different jeans from the one we rolled out of bed into twelve hours earlier. Putting on something special is not an empty formality. It is a tacit acknowledgement that something special is planned. It is our wedding dress for the composer.

But back to the main point of this post: does the dress of those listening to the concert affect their experience? Well, no silly social pressure (and if you're dashing from the office to catch a performance it would be ludicrous to attempt to change clothes) but for me dressing up to go to a concert which I've been excitedly anticipating can add to the enjoyment of the evening.

One of the greatest challenges to those of us living in the affluent West is to recapture the sheer miracle of so much of what we take for granted in our lives. A glass of water, safe to drink, turned on from endless taps, should reduce us to a little gasp of wonder every time we see the gushing liquid. If we could only attend a concert once a year I think we'd probably dress up for it.
I hate artificial formality, pomposity or snobbery, but creating special occasions, even if that means taking out our scruffiest jeans with ripped denim from knee to thigh, can enhance our relish at the classical concert's rapturous liturgy.